I saw the best bellies of my generation destroyed by fatness, bulging hysterical naked,

dragging themselves through the fast food streets at dawn looking for a hungry fix,

 

Jack felt like the gutter that he was dragging his fat ass through. He’d been wandering through the streets for six hours wondering when he’d find an open cafe. Wild with hunger and passionately hungover he thirsted for cake like a cock for ass. His bloated belly hung out from between his open plaid shirt, tightly constrained by his plain white tee, it was big, round and ballooned shaped. It bounced with every heavy step. He lit the last smoke of the pack as he plodded onto the Haight.

 

He’d already traipsed through the Mission, searched Union Square and the Wharf. Nowhere was fucking open. This city was a fucking killer to walk around. He preferred to travel the road by car. He dreamed of a day, far from 1955, when the city would be full of twenty four hour dinners and electrically powered personal mobility devices that would save a man from having to walk a single block up these hills. Maybe one day they would even deliver food to your door on such devices. His belly howled with hunger. Until he heard the jazz.

 

The sweet music of man trumpets was coming from a third floor window, “Bbrrraaaarrrpppp!” He looked up to the apartment window and heard a familiar voice.

 

“That was the sweetest one yet, man! Fruitier than a tangerine dream!”

 

It was Lawrence Spaghetti. 

 

“Hey Lawrence! Let me in, man! I’m dying out here!”

 

“Is that Flapajack I hear?”

 

“Yeah man, It’s me! I’m starving! I’ve been out here all night!”

 

“”Ok man, we’ll let you in.”

 

The apartment was littered with food wrappers, beer cans, and cigarette butts that had been discarded on the carpet. Three heavily obese young men were splayed out half-comatose across two filthy sofas. Lawrence had laid himself down, legs akimbo, on one sofa. The other sofa was full of Will and Allen. The former was dressed smart in an ill-fitting suit that busted at the seams. The latter was humongous, a real beached whale, with long greasy black hair, geeky glasses, an unkempt beard, and manner.

 

Jack spoke to Will.

 

“I’m so fucking hungry, man. Please tell me you guys have the good stuff?”

 

“Giant cocks spunking puke jizz over the poor naked wild boys I didn’t alien rape in Tangiers kill my wife”

 

“You can’t talk to him, man. Too much cake, too far gone, tooo much cake.” It was Lawrence who spoke. “You wanna hit, man?”

 

“Naked twitching anuses flabby mexican boys”

 

“Ya see? Lost in cake.”

 

“I’ll take a hit, thanks man.”

 

Lawrence poured two pounds of cake mix into the bong Jack inhaled it in one go.

 

“Woo, I needed that!”

 

Lawrence reloaded Jack sucked down crazy clown circus entangled in intestines. Belly belonging bloat balloon

 

Queesy queers quack as they quaff quazy amounts of quirkus animals shut up will. Will’s buttons pop like whizzing bullet towards wife head belly burst open all to see cake will too much

 

“America make better us liberal food portions us” said Lawrence.

 

“You guys are way ahead of me,” said Jack as his stomach rumbled.

 

He went to the kitchen and found quazy amounts of cookies, chips and cake. He snorted a line of chip dust dick twitch and donut dope 

 

nose hair wibble wobble ass fat jiggle joggle

 

Will Lawrence comfy sleep anus mouth jizz tasty fat fat fat leaky ass fat millions of american youth love cock pound hard shirt lift torn belly Norman Rockwell bloat ass strain wide gap thunder fart face breath cum taste wild boy inflate guts rectal explosion yes 

 

Jack was now satisfied, horny and full, He sunk into the sofa next to Allen

 

“It always makes me hungry to love the bloat somehow- hate's so easy compared.”

 

“Big Sir,” said Allen, “I’m with you in Fatland where you’re fatter than I am”

 

Alan had eaten enough to transfer to another gastral plain. He was only aware of Jack due to the closeness of his circumference to his circumcision. Moluch! He shouted. No, they're all gone. I ate the last of them said Jack stomach pounding bursting full

 

Bear beard bloated madness. Wild boys no Will asleep. 

 

Moloch! Moloch!  Fat party apartments! invisible sloburbs! swollen treasuries! blind capital gains! Demonic fast food industries! anal nations! Intestine gaseous madhouses! granite cocks! monstrous ass bombs!

 

Sshhh! Jack, calm Allen, mouth cock belly face. Fatter tomorrow cake mix hit more consume inhale groan stretch belch cake mix hit girth wound hard soft flab cake mix hit inhale digest pain cake mix hit inhale growth bloat boat belly sail wind champagne cake hit mix inhale large tank fire power face hit take inhale drown stream burst banks cake mix hit inhale monstrous digest intestines full cake mix hit inhale scream breath bong swell burst balls take hit inhale

 

Jack sleep Allen ass fat face Allen: who balled after breakfast in the dinner times in restaurants and the grass of public parks and bakeries scattering their semen freely to whomever come who may, Sleep wild boys feast all night America boys fat future lazy safe

 

home is where your ass is